The Life and Times of a Bunch of Vaguely Menacing People
by Qu33nbeee
Summary: In the future, things are far from being fixed. There's still days that you just want to repeatedly slam your head into the wall. But that's life. Hovercars cant fix bad days. And with the terrible, rotten, horrible days, sometimes more often than not comes a few good days that aren't quite as bad. That's something that even the most talented soldiers need to learn. (more on Ao3)
1. Olive Sinclair

The meat grinder had been an accident. Anyone could have made the mistake that led to Olive needing a replacement hand. But apparently, they had gotten into too many of these accidents, and the ranch was giving them their one-week warning.

They were told while Dr. Arphaxad made some small repairs to their new hand. They stared at their boss, ex-boss, as he fiddled with the pens in his pocket.

"I'm sorry, Olive. You've been such a big help on the property, but you're a danger to yourself. I had you in the kitchens to stop your accidents, not increase them."

"But I need-" they tried to protest. Andrés held up his hand to stop them.

"You paid off your debt. Long ago. Go home, I'm sure your parents will be happy to see you, pequeño."

They sighed and looked to the Doctor for help, but they were suddenly very fixated on Olive's hand.

"Ok."

* * *

A week later, and they got a message in the mail. They weren't a very popular person, so it came as a surprise. What it said was even more so.

" _Olive Sinclair,_

 _Though you have not submitted an application, or so much as looked our way for employment, we here at Overwatch would be pleased to have you on our staff team._

 _It's takes a special kind of nondescript person to work behind the scenes, preferably one who has worked positively with Omnics and humans of all kinds. We have selected you, for your past performances with both, as well as your spectacular work in the kitchens of your previous employer. Our kitchens at the Watchpoint: Gibraltar have been devastatingly empty, and a top chef should be highly appreciated._

 _Should you take this job, you must sign a treaty of secrecy, and move to the base. Quarters will be provided. Agents are not always present at base, and cooking for everyone will not be often, however having meal plans fit for fifty will be preferred, as many of our agents have increased metabolisms._

 _If you do not want this opportunity, burn this letter. If you do, contact me at XXX-XXXX._

 _-Winston, Agent at Overwatch._ "

Their hands shook as they read the letter again, but they weren't sure if it was due to their new, occasionally accident-prone hand, or nerves. But it was this shaking that freed the extra bit of parchment in the envelope still clutched in their hand. They gently picked it up and unfolded what appeared to be a receipt with forty dollars worth of peanut butter and bananas charged on it. The back had a note written on it.

" _P.S: should you agree, unless you are making me a snack, leave all bananas and peanut butter in the fridge alone._ "

They couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up out of them at the absurdity.

They knew of overwatch. They knew they fought the Omnics, which just seemed ridiculous to them, both at the time and now. All Omnics they had ever met were pleasant, and they lived through some of the worst years of the war.

Although, lived is quite a strong word.

* * *

In their mid teen years, Olive was diagnosed with cancer and hospitalized until they were twenty four. Neither they or their parents could pay the hospital fee, so the owner of the hospital enlisted Olive to work at his ranch, as he had done for so many of his other patients. Most left after their payment was done, but Olive had continued to work out there for nearly twenty years. At this point, he owed _them_ money. But they wouldn't take it, they hadn't continued to work for money, but for the enjoyment of it. Even if it did leave them with a half-metal torso and a robotic leg and hand.

The Omnics in their area were not war machines. They were built for farm work. What few butler-ish Omnics they saw in their life were owned by rich families who really had no use being in the slums and street markets that made up Olive's home.

People were a bit weirded out by the Omnics when they first came about, but they grew to appreciate them, and the market place that was once bustling with only people became a social gathering between the species.

When the omnic crisis hit, the Omnics vanished for several weeks. The markets were quiet beyond the mumbled trading between humans. Less people went to talk with the vendors, and the business lessened each day.

The first omnic to walk into the place in weeks had red eyes and guns drawn.

The first human to take note, was an old blind woman who had worked with the omnic before. They had often traded together, becoming an unbreakable force to be bartered with. She, too stubborn to let anyone swindle her; and the omnic, one made for harvesting ground vegetables like potatoes and carrots, had a keen eye that wouldn't let any faulty material pass her by in a trade.

The old blind woman could not see the red in her eyes or the guns that replaced her usual equipment, but she recognized the sound of her voice.

She hadn't hesitated to throw her arms around the omnic when she realized who was in front of her.

Vendors took notice as the robot beeped sporadically, unsure of the turn of events, but instead of running in fear, as she had become accustomed to, cheers were sent up around the market and more people came forth to hug and thank her for returning.

Whoever programmed the virus sweeping through Omnics all across the globe failed to consider how it would react to pure adoration. Before, people would act out in fear or hate, but ever since the crisis, not one person had responded with love, and now one omnic was receiving the brunt of this reaction. She didn't know how to react, and the red in her eyes slowly seeped out, leaving behind a light grey glow as she laughed and finally hugged her old blind woman back.

As the crisis continued everywhere else, the market and slums of Olive's neighborhood returned to it's hubbub of human/omnic cohabitation. The rouge Omnics that passed through were met with the same love as the first, from the traders who had reveled in their company. Within the borders of the neighborhood, the Omnics were just as they always had been.

Outside, was a different story.

They were still programmed with what every other omnic had in the world. The only exception to the ones prowling about in this corner of Mexico, was that not everyone was their target.

With each day came the assassinations of more of the officials who lead to the poverty of so many people. With each day, a few Omnics would stroll back into the markets and buy far more food and supplies than they needed, with money that wasn't really theirs, and disperse the goods to those in the slums too poor for even the cheapest materials.

Olive was too young to fully understand at the time, and they were too sick to mourn by the time the majority of Omnics were shut down. But the memory of the Omnics who brought them treats when they were young was something sweet they could look back on while going through the roughest years of chemo.

They would always see Omnics as equals, if not something higher. They were, after all, the reason they had a hand, a leg, hearing, and a life today.

* * *

Gibraltar was a strange place, Olive thought, as the limo that dropped them off in front sped away. They stared up at the tall building before them as they slowly walked to the doors. After sitting on a plane for five hours, and then the car ride to the base, their leg had gone funny and it was difficult to move it. They dragged themselves through the door and came face to face with a very large gorilla. They stared, since no words came to them.

"Hello! You're Olive Sinclair, correct? I'm Winston."

They blinked, trying to process this onslaught of information, then smiled and held out their hand.

"Yeah, that's me. And you're the one with an affinity for bananas and peanut butter?"

He laughed and nodded before turning away.

"Come on, I'll show you to your room and then the kitchens. The others aren't here right now, they're on their own missions. But you will meet them all over time."

* * *

Olive nearly screamed at the sight of their new kitchen.

Way up on the eighth floor, and connected to a large cafeteria, was the kitchen that would make up their new workplace. Decked in stainless steel and white marble countertops, and all the latest in cooking ware. There was a stove with ten burners. Ten.

"Oh, Winston..." they sighed at the sight, but the gorilla seemed to take it the wrong way.

"What? Is something wrong? I can have it remodeled... again..."

They could barely respond beyond giving him a tight hug and shaking their head.

"It's beautiful, I didn't even know steel could shine like this! L-look at that mixer, it's as big as my belly!" They finally laughed, and Winston chuckled back at them.

"I'm glad you like it. I'll let you get settled. You don't officially start until tomorrow, so get some rest."

He turned and left, and Olive stared across their new territory with their hands on their hips. Just cause they weren't on the payroll yet didn't mean that they couldn't try out the tools of their trade.

* * *

With several new batches of bizcochitos made (they had three ovens! They could bake six batches at the same time!) they made their way up to their room with a small plate of the cookies.

Inside their room, they noticed a small metal box on the wall, and immediately pressed a button on it, despite not knowing what it did.

"Athena program activated. What can I do for you, Mx. Sinclair?" A woman's voice responded, perky and happy to help.

"Oh, uh..." they had only just stuffed their mouth with a cookie and couldn't swallow it quick enough to respond.

"I can wait until you are finished eating."

They nodded and chewed before managing to finish what was in their mouth.

"Ok, what are... you?"

"I am the Athena program. I am an AI that protects the base, as well as our agents while that are on missions. I can answer any question you may have, and should you need help in the kitchen, I will be happy to help with anything I am able to."

"Oh, wow, thank you." They said with wide eyes.

"You are quite welcome, Mx. Sinclair. Do you need anything else at the moment?"

"Um... can you contact Winston?"

"Calling Winston..."

There were a few beeps before Winston's voice cut through over the speaker.

"Athena, I'm busy, I've got this- no, I can't take any- Athena please."

"Uh, Winston?" They asked, feeling like they were intruding.

"Oh! Olive! I didn't see that Athena patched you through. Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, it's great actually! I just wanted to tell you that there's cookies in the kitchen if you want some... They aren't peanut butter, if you were wondering."

"You didnt have to do that, Olive, you aren't-"

"I was just testing out the new digs, and it was easy! Recipe I know by heart. Barely took me over an hour."

"Well, I will try to make my way up. I believe that some agents are set to come back tonight, so they may make their way through the kitchen to grab some too."

"I made eight dozen, just to be safe."

"Y-you what!?"

"You said make meals fit for fifty people, and I know people like cookies, so I just made a lot."

"Th-that... well, I can't really argue with that. But I hope you don't work yourself too hard. We can't have you passing out on the job."

"I'm used to the hours required for being a chef, and I know how to take care of myself. I should be fine. But thank you for worrying, Winston. I'm headed to bed, but I'll be starting breakfast at four."

"Sleep well, Olive."

"Will do."

Athena cut the call and they got ready for bed slowly but steadily. They weren't especially tired, since they had rested on the plane, but they knew they had to be up early, so they had Athena play some relaxation music as they settled in for the night.

* * *

McCree got back to the base at the same time as and Lucio did. They sent tired greetings his way as they went down to debrief with Winston, and he headed for the kitchens. He would join them after he got something to eat.

He expected to just root around the fridge for something, but when he stepped into the kitchen, he was met with the smell of anise and sugar, and his mouth started watering. That was a smell he hadn't come across since before he wound up here. Back when he was still Gabriel's trainee.

He looked around the kitchen until his gaze fell on several large platters of bizcochitos. He picked one up, sniffed it, then took a bite.

It crumbled in his mouth and the sugar that coated it melted on his tongue. The anise was strong, but didnt overpower it with a licorice taste that some off-brand attempts would.

It was perfect.

He grabbed one of the platters and made his way down to Winston with a smile on his face. He ate as he walked.

* * *

When he reached the labs where Winston said he'd be, Lucio and Hana were just getting up to leave.

"Go get something to eat, you two. You did a good job. Oh, McCree." Winston looked up at him when he walked in, and the other two turned to look at him. "I see you found some snacks."

"Didjya make these, Winston? They're perfect." He said as he bit into another cookie. He wasn't even sure how many he had eaten at this point. The plate was certainly lighter.

"Cookies?" Lucio asked as he and Hana approached. "Can we have some?"

"Yeah, cowboy, don't hog them all!" Hana said, reaching for a stack. McCree smacked her hand away.

"Nuh-uh, little lady, these are alllll mine." He held the plate high above either of their heads so they couldn't reach it, even if they jumped. They both pouted.

"That's enough you three." Winston chuckled and grabbed the plate from McCree. "You can't eat eight dozen cookies in one sitting anyways, McCree."

"Eight dozen?" Hana asked.

"There should be more in the kitchen, yes. And to answer your earlier question, no I didn't make these." He popped one in his mouth and smiled. "Though I admit they are very good. My compliments to the chef."

"Wait," Lucio muttered. "You're the only one here. Who made them?"

"As of five pm today, I was not the only one here."

"Did Reinhardt come back early?" Hana wondered.

"Reinhardt doesn't know how to make cookies like these." McCree said absently. "Winston stop bein so cryptic."

He chuckled and shrugged.

"You'll meet them. By the way, what time is it?"

"Uh, 3:17?" Hana said as she checked her phone.

"You two need rest. McCree, sit down and debrief so you can go too."

Hana and Lucio headed out, not before stealing a few cookies for themselves, and McCree began the arduous task of explaining every portion of his mission to Winston as he typed. Usually they would do this with 76, but since he was busy tonight, Winston was in charge.

* * *

He trudged back up to the kitchens, intending to put the plate back where he found it. Between him, Winston, and a really boring talk, the cookies didn't stand a chance.

On his way out of cafeteria and towards the elevator, he ran into someone as he yawned.

"Whoopsie! Didn't see you there, cowboy." They said, sounding drowsy, like they had just woken up.

"It's alright, I wasn't- who the hell are you?"

They were small, round, with short shaved hair, and wearing a nondescript Tshirt under a pair of overalls. One of their hands was metal and glowed with a pinkish energy, and their left foot clunked heavily as they shifted.

"Oh! Right, hello, I'm Olive Sinclair. Winston hired me to be the chef around here. And you are?"

McCree just stared at them blankly for a few seconds.

"Wait, does that mean you're the one who made the cookies?"

"The bizcochitos? Yes sir! They're a favorite of mine. Did you have some?"

Instead of responding, he just leaned over and hugged them tightly and gave a little sniff.

"They were beautiful." He finally said as he stood upright again and tipped his hat. "The name's McCree. If you keep making things like that, I'm not sure I'll ever be going on a mission again, in favor of just eating all day."

Olive laughed a loud, full body laugh.

"Alright, Mr. McCree. Say, how many agents are here right now? I forgot to ask Athena."

"It's just me, Winston, Lucio and Hana. 76 may be coming in late morning, though."

"Thanks, buddy. I've gotta start on breakfast now, so that you'll have it warm when you get up."

He chuckled and let them pass, muttering "I'll be up at high noon." To himself before heading down to the elevator. There may have been a bit more pep in his step than before.

* * *

4:30 am marked the time Olive had everything prepped and ready to go. Winston had packed the fridge with ingredients from all over the world, some of which Olive had never seen before. But since they were only preparing for such a small portion of the team, they decided on something fairly simple.

That didn't mean they couldn't make it more complicated than they had to, of course, they did have a few hours before the others would be up after all.

They turned the oven on low and started mixing several different batches of pancake batter, then dying each mix a different color. As the griddle heated up, they considered some designs.

While working on the property, one of the other cooks had shown them how to make pancake art, and while they weren't usually the most talented with a pencil, they found that they had taken a liking to the food art.

Nearly an hour later, they had stacks of colorful pancakes staying warm in the oven, and set about to make a syrup.

Around 6:45, Winston wandered into the kitchen as they were setting out various toppings, and when they saw him they grabbed a banana, and made a gesture to ask if they could cut it up. He smiled and nodded and they sliced it into a bowl and set it beside bowls of chocolate chips and strawberry slices on the counter that separated the dining hall from the kitchen.

"There's so much stocked in here, Winston, I'm not sure what I can do with some of it." They said with a laugh as they took one of the pancake stacks out of the oven and in front of where Winston sat, leaning against the counter.

"You seem to be adapting just fine, though. The cookies were delicious, by the way." He investigated the various shaped pancakes and laughed as he took one out of the middle, that appeared to be a bunch of bananas. He gave them a side-long look and they looked proud.

"McCree mentioned that. I ran into him when I was coming in this morning. He hugged me. I think he might have cried a little."

"He's a good guy, if you don't mind the hat and the spurs."

"He's certainly something strange."

Winston watched them putter around the kitchen, cleaning dishes, setting out plates on the counter, and wiping things down. As he nibbled on his banana shaped pancake, he considered their mechanical hand, what he could see of their metal foot, and the implants in their ears. The latter was difficult to see, unless you knew what you were looking for.

"Do you think you'll like it here?"

"Hmm?" Olive turned to look at him as they wiped flour off of their overalls. They stared blankly at him for a moment, processing, then smiled wide.

"I haven't met everyone yet, but I think this'll be great." They glanced at his half eaten pancake. "Now finish eating, else I wouldn't really be feeding ya!"

* * *

 _ **As of this chapter, the good days/bad days tally is: Overwatch:1/0. Talon:0/0**_


	2. Mauerbauertraurigkeit Vladisson

The base shook violently as another blast exploded outside. For years, this base had stayed off the map and away from enemy's sight. Mauerbauertraurigkeit had never seen it attacked since he had been sent to his prison seven years before. It was about time, he thought.

He stretched out his legs and groaned when they hit the other side of the cell. It had been years since he could stretch to his full length and he really missed being able to switch out his limbs.

The sudden sound of an alarm rang out through the building and the prison block was filled with red light. None of the other prisoners reacted, since there were no other prisoners. In fact, the only person Mauerbauertraurigkeit had laid his eyes on in the past few years was Olive, who hand delivered his meals. They were very nice, and tried their damnedest to cook Hangikjöt, but smoked Icelandic lamb did not quite work with lamb not raised in the traditional Icelandic way.

He was surprised out of his rocking and thinking when the door to his cell suddenly broke open. Whether if it was from a blast, or a safety precaution, he didn't know, but he wasn't about to stick around to find out. He scrambled up, dipped out of his cell, and when he stood up straight, he heard and felt his back pop several times. He groaned again as his bones seemed to sigh in relief. The hallway was much taller than his cell.

But he could't stand around all day, or overwatch would surely put him back in a cage.

"For his safety," they say, "for the safety of others." They also claim. But it's not like he went out killing people, he only dealt with the already dead!

Now, he had to find his cane. He couldn't ever do anything of any use without his cane. He still had to stoop just a bit in this hall, because of steel beams lower than the rest of the ceiling every few feet. This would do terribly for his stature, if seven years in a too-small cell wasn't enough.

The hallway was still drenched in red light, and the closer Mauerbauertraurigkeit got to the stairs, the louder the alarm got. He did not want to go towards the louder noise, it was making his head spin. But he also knew there was nowhere else to go but up from here. He sighed and started his way up.

* * *

Above ground, Talon agents were encroaching on the Overwatch base as the heroes who had been around during the attack desperately tried to protect their base, while also keeping Olive off of the battlefield. The little chef was far too self sacrificing for their own, soft-bellied, good.

Roadhog was holding his own fairly well, but he could heal himself. None of the trained healers were on staff at this base at the moment and Lucio was still an hour off. Some of his teammates were not as well off as he was.

The edgy skeleton man was spinning and shooting again, and Zayara just barely managed to duck behind a wall to get away from his fire. Roadhog was trying to find Junkrat, because lord knows the little rascal would happily throw himself into the firefight unprotected just as quickly as Olive.

Tracer shot past him and then back to him a second later.

"Roadhog! Have you seen Winston? Athena got hacked, and the base's defenses are being shut down!"

"No."

"Ah! Well, if you see him, tell him that, ok? We've got... some stuff here that Talon should not get their hands on."

Tracer was gone before Roadhog could respond to that. He wasn't sure what she was talking about, since the only strange thing here was Olive.

He would have pondered it more, but he heard the distant sound of Junkrat's riptire, so he ran off to find the little guy.

* * *

Mauerbauertraurigkeit was elated. Not only had he found where overwatch had stored his cane, he had also found his proper clothes, which would feel so much better on his skin than the grey jumpsuit that didn't quite fit on his disproportionate body.

After getting back into his fitted suit, he checked to make sure his cane was loaded, and wandered out of the base and into a battlefield. He really didn't know what was happening, so he just went to speak with the first person he saw.

* * *

Everything had gone to shit very quickly when Roadhog reunited with Junkrat. Before, there were just a few Talon agents, but they had another flood of agents come through, and the heroes had been pushed back as far as they could be while Winston frantically tried to get Athena back online.

Junkrat had been too close to his own riptire when it exploded, causing his peg leg to be blown to bits, and his head was bleeding from hitting a wall a bit to hard. He was babbling more incoherently than normal.

A large shadow fell over him and Junkrat, who he was holding. The fucker couldn't walk, no matter how much he said he could.

"Pardon me, ya big fucker, mind telling me what the hell is happening over here? Looks like a gateway to Valhalla out here." A voice above him asked with a very Nordic accent. So many parts of this situation surprised Roadhog since A. There was no one on the base besides the heroes he knew and a very limited staff, B. It was very clear what was happening right now, and C. He was one of the tallest people in Overwatch, and this voice was quite far above him.

He looked behind him, then up. And up a little more.

A man leaned against a fancy cane and smiled down at him. Roadhog was standing at his full 7'3 height, and the man was smiling down at him.

A bomb went off a ways off and the man didn't seem to be fazed at all.

"What are you doing here?!" Winston had just come around the corner and was now addressing the odd man, who frowned at the gorilla.

"Winston."

"What are you doing, Mauerbauertraurigkeit?" Winston asked. Roadhog had never heard a name so hard to pronounce.

"One can only sit in a six foot tall cell for so long, Winston. I needed to stretch my legs."

"You need to get back inside. We can't let Talon get their hands on you."

"I don't think so, ya hairy Frændserðir-" the man cut himself off as he saw Junkrat, who had passed out.

"Is he dead?"

Roadhog wasn't sure what he thought of the gleam in the man's eyes when that left his mouth.

"No, just passed out."

"Ah, a shame. I bet he has some nicely working kidneys. And... oh my, look at your hands, those are beautiful!" The man touched one of his large hands tenderly and giggled to himself.

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit."

"But it looks like this guy is hurt... well, I may as well help since blood loss is not the way to go, ideally. It makes for faulty organs."

He raised his cane, unscrewed the glass orb that sat on top of it, revealing a long needle, and jabbed it into Junkrat's thigh. A moment later, Junkrat woke up and slipped out of Roadhog's arms to fix something together to fashion a makeshift leg.

Zayara walked over as Winston glowered at the man.

"Is he a healer?" She asked.

"Barely." The ape grumbled.

"He healed the Rat, though."

"Not much for him. He's volatile."

"Winston, we need whatever help we can get."

Winston sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"You're right."

Mauerbauertraurigkeit had turned back to Roadhog with another smile, and Mako wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Ey, you big fucking pig, what's you're name?"

Mako couldn't figure out if he should be offended or not. "...Roadhog."

"Oh, code names then? So informal." He frowned for a moment, then shook his head and held out his hand. "In that case, my code name is Vladísson. But really, I only give that name to those who can't pronounce my birth name."

Roadhog didn't reply, but someone leaving the building did.

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit! You're out!" Olive exclaimed as they walked out.

"Olive! You cocksucker! Have you gotten permission to make slime?" He smiled widely and Olive laughed.

"Not yet. Hope you don't mind waiting a bit longer."

"We'll see."

At that moment, the Talon agent Winston called Reaper finally broke through Winston's shield and shot Mauerbauertraurigkeit through the shoulder.

"Ow! You pussylicker, you must have a face only a mother could love!" He held onto his shoulder as a strange ripping sound came from him. A second later, his arm fell off.

"Is it just me, or did Reaper's gun suddenly get a hell of a lot more powerful?" Junkrat asked from his spot in the corner where he worked on his leg.

"It's just you, ya scrawny fuck, that's not even my arm." Mauerbauertraurigkeit picked up the disembodied arm and waved it around. What oozed out of the arm was thick, congealed blood that resembled soupy jello more than what should normally pump through a person's veins. Reaper had stopped in his spot and was staring at the Nord with what may have been disgust. It was difficult to tell with his mask on.

"Now I gotta find a new one. Any dead agents around here, or do I gotta take an ape arm?"

Winston glared at him and didn't reply. No one did, in fact, so he turned to Reaper, who was mumbling into his earpiece. In a few long strides, Mauerbauertraurigkeit towered over Reaper, hefted the arm up, and smacked him across the face with it. Junkrat burst into hysterics behind him.

Reaper growled, but didn't do anything to hurt him.

"We've got a place in Talon for someone like you." He grumbled, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit looked contemplative.

"What do I get from it? Do I get a lab?"

"Yes."

"Dead bodies?"

"Yes."

"An assistant to annoy?"

"... if you want one."

"Good god! You're far more supportive of my exploits than overwatch has ever been! Let's go then!"

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit!" Winston yelled, but ultimately went ignored as he happily followed Reaper away from the base.

"Have fun!" Olive called out, making the heroes look at them oddly. "What? Not like he was having a good time here."

"Who was that, exactly?" Zayara asked when the two left their sight. A few moments later, a ship rose into the air and sped off, and Winston sighed.

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit Vladísson. Probably the closest we have to a real necromancer, and zombie outbreak. If the world ends, I won't doubt for a moment that it's his fault."

"Sounds like a nice guy." Junkrat said as he tested out his new leg. He had made it out of a broken lamp post that had been scattered about the street.

"Oh, Winston is overreacting." Olive said casually. "He's real nice, it's overwatch's fault he's hanging out with Talon now, since you just locked him up in a tiny cage. Wouldn't even let me make stim toys for him. He's been bored and cramped for seven years down there." They rolled their eyes and turned off their hearing aid before Winston could reply. "Don't wanna hear it." They mumbled, then smiled and waved to the junkers before heading back inside.

* * *

good days/bad days tally:  
Overwatch- 1/1  
Talon- 1/0  
Reaper- 0/10000


	3. Vervain

"We have several interns you could use as assistants, if you just look through their files." An agent was trying to hand Mauerbauertraurigkeit a thick file folder, but he turned his nose up at it.

"Sorry, there seems to be a misunderstanding. When I said I wanted an assistant, I meant I wanted MY assistant. My assistant or I leave."

"We can't just-"

"Bring in my assistant, or I will bring every corpse Talon has ever been responsible for back to life to haunt each killer for the rest of their terribly short lives."

"We don't know who your assistant is, Mr. Vladísson!" The agent cried out, tensing up, expecting some sort of a blow that never came.

"Oh, well that's simple, Vervain is back in Iceland! She'd never leave. Silly little darling."

"I-I'll see what I can do, sir."

"Have a nice trip, ya fucking Yankee candle."

"What?"

"Bet ya'd smell like the shitty American Dream one, too."

Mauerbauertraurigkeit ignored the odd look the agent shot him, instead going back to some notes he was writing, about the corpse on his lab table. The arm he had taken off of it seemed to be having some difficulty making certain movements, and he wanted to find out just what exactly was wrong.

* * *

The next person to come see him was Reaper himself. He seemed to be just as grouchy as before. He was probably pissed about being slapped with a disembodied arm, still.

"We're an hour away from Iceland. Where is this assistant you were raving about?"

He looked up from his notes and looked at the time. It had, in fact, been quite a few hours since he was interrupted before.

"Oh, we lived in the northern most town, so it'll still be a ways off. You'll tell we're close when the turbulence gets out of hand. It never stops storming up there."

"You seem... more tolerable than before."

"That always happens when I have something to do besides sit in a small cage for years on end. Keep me preoccupied, and I won't go about slapping you with dead people."

Reaper flinched and grumbled something under his breath.

"We will come get you when we get closer."

"Right-o, you pínulítill tík."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Reaper grumbled again and left, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit cracked a small grin as he thought about seeing Vervain again.

* * *

The moment the whole ship was swept harshly to the right, he knew they were close to his home town. Ten months of the year, the snow-scape was wrecked with blizzards, and the other two months switched between thunderstorms and high winds. It was probably the only place in Iceland that actually lived up to its country's namesake. The town of Úrgangurinn was uninhabitable for most of the world's population.

He laughed and made his way out of his lab, having to duck a bit to get into the hallway. Reaper was coming towards him on shaky legs as the ship rocked through the turbulence.

"...we're about to land."

"Good, its about time." He ran his hand through his hair, making it slick back, and grinned down at Reaper. "I assume you're coming with me? You don't want me running off into the wilderness, do ya?"

"Unfortunately I have to go with you. You're going out like that?"

Reaper pointed out the fact that Mauerbauertraurigkeit was wearing little more than a suit vest, black shorts, and a lab coat thrown on top of it all. Not exactly snow-appropriate.

"I'll be fine."

"If you say so..."

"Oh, I do say so."

Reaper sighed, then stumbled as the ship made a very harsh landing. Mauerbauertraurigkeit only rested his weight on his cane a little more than normal, and somehow stayed mostly upright.

* * *

When they got off the ship, Mauerbauertraurigkeit walked with purpose out into the snow storm, already seeming to know where to go.

"How do you know where to go?" Reaper asked as he tried to keep up with his long gait.

"The snow blows one direction here!" Mauerbauertraurigkeit yelled over the wind. He held his hair out of his face as he leaned forward against the storm. "You didn't get very far into the storm before landing, so we have to keep going against the wind to find Úrgangurinn!"

Two hours of silent walking went by before they spotted a few lights in the distance.

"Aha! As expected!" He called out to Reaper, who was a few paces behind him. "Keep up edge man!"

As they walked closer to the lights, the snow lessened until they stood in what seemed to be a town square and only a few flakes fell through a light breeze. Mauerbauertraurigkeit frowned at the grey sky.

"Weather's weird right now. Usually it's worse in town."

"Where is your assistant?" Reaper growled as he shook snow out of his metal joints. "I wanna leave as soon as we can."

"Still a ways to my house, tík."

"Your- your house? What about your assistant?"

"She's there!" He responded as he walked down the main village street. There couldn't have been more than twenty wooden shack-like buildings, and no one came out to greet them. It felt much more eerie than most snowy cabins did.

As they left the main part of the town, they trudged up a hill, where two cabins lay. One was small and made of stone, and the other was much taller, and emanated a warm glow of life.

Mauerbauertraurigkeit walked right up to the large door on the taller house, and knocked. A moment later, and a woman just a bit taller than Mauerbauertraurigkeit opened to door.

"Hello? Mr. Jorgesson, if you're back- oh!"

She was intimidating if nothing else. She wore a bear skin throw and an ax hung at her hip, and she looked to be about eighty years old, which only served to impress reaper. He was in his sixties and he tended to literally turn to dust.

"My boy! Mauerbauertraurigkeit! You're back!" She threw her arms around him and he was quickly crushed against her. He just laughed and patted her shoulder.

"I missed ye, mamma. Every minute I was gone."

She let him go, and he stepped to the side to show her Reaper.

"This is a Talon agent. He got me out of prison, and I'm gonna be working with him for a while. But I'm not doing that unless I get Vervain."

The woman crouched down to see Reaper better, which just made him feel tiny. How someone could put up with such tall people, he couldn't understand. Maybe he would ask this Vervain how they do it.

"I gotta thank ye for getting me boy outta prison, but ye gotta promise not to lock him up either."

"...promise."

"Not a talkative one, ey?" She chuckled and stood upright, and ushered them in.

"Come in, you two, it's a bit bitey out there, and ye don't want ol Nick snacking on yer arses. And- hey! What did I tell ya, Mauerbauertraurigkeit, about wearin' that outside? You'll catch somethin'!"

"Aw, ma, if I get a little frostbite, I can just cut it off and get a new limb! I've done it plenty times already!"

"You..." she sighed, shaking her head like she's had this argument too many times to keep caring. "Vervain!" She suddenly yelled. "There's someone here to see ya!"

A door slammed from the back of the house, and very faint footsteps could be heard on creaking floorboards, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit hopped from side to side in excitement. He had a grin on that nearly split his face in two.

A side door opened and a large black figure appeared within the door frame. It turned to close the door quietly, then turned to face them. Or, at least, Reaper could only assume it faced them. Whoever it was, was wearing a black cloak that left everything to the imagination, and something that appeared to be a dog cone was around their head. There was white lace on the cloak, but he couldn't tell anything about the person within.

The said person had frozen the moment they turned around, but after Mauerbauertraurigkeit cautiously raised his hand in greeting, they lunged forwards and was in front of Mauerbauertraurigkeit in a second.

"Hi Vervain, h-how's it been?"

While Reaper hadn't seen it, he definitely heard the hard smack Vervain gave across his face. Mauerbauertraurigkeit was completely silent as he tried to process being hit. He touched his cheek gently, and looked back at Vervain.

"I missed ye too, me Valkyrie." He whispered, as soft as Reaper had ever heard him.

Reaper watched in horror as Vervain lurched forward and enveloped him in a hug underneath the cloak. Not even his head could be seen. After all, Vervain left Reaper shaking in his boots so much so that he was afraid he was going to turn to dust right then and there.

If Mauerbauertraurigkeit's file at overwatch was correct, then he was about eight feet tall, last time they measured him, three months ago. Vervain towered over him, so they had to at least be nine feet.

A choked sob sounded from the cone, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit could be heard under the cloak, shushing them quietly.

"You want some soup, sweetheart?"

Reaper looked up at Mauerbauertraurigkeit's mother, who was smiling down at him without a hint of malice. That was something he hadn't seen in a long time.

"I got lamb stew brewin, and you look like you could use some soup. Those two will need some time."

He sighed and followed her to the kitchen, where the scent of warm bread, butter, and hot stew filled him with a warm feeling he hadn't had in years.

"Ye call me Vladís, sweetheart. Won't go by anything else."

"Vladís... isn't his last name Vladísson?"

"Oh, that's how names work here! His dad skipped out on me before he was born so that why he didn't get his pop's name, but everyone's named after their parents. Except poor Vervain, she decided to take a whole new family name. But that's a story for another time, and a different teller."

She ladled some stew into a large bowl for him, then cut off a slice of bread before sliding it all across the table to him.

"Eat up, I'm sure ye'r freezing from the walk up, and ye ain't a local like my boy."

Reaper slid his mask off and started to eat, though he doubted he could eat the whole bowl. He didn't normally eat food anyways.

"So what can I call ye? I told ye my name."

"Reaper."

"That ain't no name. Tells me nothin' about ye."

"What can you tell about a name?"

"Oh lots. Vladís is from our words that mean the dead and goddess. People often fill their name's meanings, be it consciously or not."

"You saying you're a goddess or something?" He smirked up at her, and she threw the look right back at him.

"Of somethin', that's for sure. An' I didn't get this bear skin from any men in town." She poured herself a glass of a dark brown liquid and sat down across from him. "So what will your name say about you?"

"...It's Gabriel Reyes."

"An' I can see ye've filled yer name out quite nicely, what, with that face fit for an angel, and what-not."

Gabriel stared at her for a moment, letting his stew drip back into the bowl, then sat back, covered his face and let out a full body laugh.

"Y-you! You sly lady!" He chortled, and Vladís sat back with a broad smirk. "I can only hope I'm as smooth as you at your age." He finally breathed when he got his breath back. "But I've gotta wonder what your angels look like if I remind you of one."

"Oh sweetie, Angels ain't pretty things, they're mostly teeth and eyes and wings and can't be looked at with mortal eyes." She took a swig of her drink, "but if ye find somethin' like that pretty, I sure won't judge ye out loud."

Reaper decided he liked Vladís a lot.

"So why'd you name your son Mauerbauertraurigkeit? Sounds like a German name. And a mouthful."

Immediately, Vladís sobered up and Gabriel almost regretted asking. She looked passed him, and rested her chin on her hand as she stared off silently. The light in her eyes seemed to dull as she considered his question.

"There's somethin' this town does to people." She muttered, "It's a town of outsiders, 'n fact, Mauerbauertraurigkeit and Vervain are the first kids born within its borders in 'bout fifty years or so."

She leaned over her glass and stared at the dark image of her reflected back through brown liquid. "No one sticks around, an' if they do, they're too old to move away. Nobody talks much, unless they need somethin'. I'm sure to you, they're all mad out there. We don't get sun, and that's somethin' humans need to keep sane. Heh, Ms. Welschsdotter thinks I'm some sort o' fairie..." she sighed and put her head in her hands.

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit has kept me goin' through my life. When he wasn't here, Vervain helped, but nothing helped better than his promise of coming back some day." She finally looked up, and there was something in her gaze that Gabriel couldn't describe.

"I don't wanna push him away like I did everyone else. Him or Vervain. So you better bring them back someday, else you'll be regretting so much more than I'm sure you already do."

Gabriel gulped and nodded slowly, making Vladís grin.

"Good boy."

* * *

"You'll be stayin here for the night, I won't risk yer thin blood freezing up out in the blizzard that's to come in soon."

Gabriel found himself suddenly buried in a pile of quilts and pillows, and he could hear Mauerbauertraurigkeit and Vervain chuckling at his floundering. Vervain's laugh was wheezy, like she didn't do it much.

"Son, be a dear and go get some more brennivín from Mr. Welschsson. We're gonna need some of his hot stuff."

Mauerbauertraurigkeit's face lit up and he jumped up from his place on the couch.

"Is Kaihra and Kieger still with him?"

"I doubt those two are going anywhere anytime soon. They will be happy to see you."

"Perfect! Vervain! Wanna join?"

The person under the cloak made a strange gurgling sound, and stood. For the first time since he had gotten there, Gabriel saw two hands emerge from beneath the cloak and unbuttoned the top. In what almost seemed to be slow motion, Vervain lifted the cone from around her head, and the cloak followed suit. It hadn't dawned on Gabriel that it was one whole piece, but now it was clear that it was.

The person left standing in the middle of the den defied all logic that would normally come with a nine foot tall creature.

Yes, she was a bit gangly, but every part of her body was in proportion, nearly unnaturally so. Her dark arms had stripes of lighter skin every few inches, and some parts of her body were even darker than other parts. She looked down on him for a good few seconds before Mauerbauertraurigkeit rushed up to her with an oxygen tank with straps, and an air mask attached to it. She took it, and kissed Mauerbauertraurigkeit as she did so, which made him look up at her like she was the moon. She pulled the mask over her face, pulled the straps on the tank over her shoulders like a backpack, and motioned Mauerbauertraurigkeit to follow her out the door.

They left, and Gabriel stood still, trying to figure out whether he should be scared of Vervain or not.

Vladís laughed from the other side of the room.

"She has that effect on people. Yer not the first one."

"What..."

"I just wish those two would stop wearing their short shorts and tank tops outside, one of these days they're gonna loose their heads for good when they fall off."

"Their heads fall off a lot?" Gabriel finally asked.

"You don't really think those are their original bodies, do you? What do you want them for?"

Gabriel suddenly remembered shooting off Mauerbauertraurigkeit's arm outside of overwatch, and how he barely even flinched. He recalled the dark oozing blood that looked like molasses. He distinctly remembered the strong desire to puke from the smell of embalming fluid and rot as he dragged a corpse out of the medbay and up to Mauerbauertraurigkeit's lab.

He shuddered.

"We... heard he can bring back the dead..."

"He's a special boy, I wouldn't have him any other way." Vladís said fondly as she sat on the couch and relaxed, her bones popped and creaked as she did so.

* * *

The wind whipped around Mauerbauertraurigkeit and Vervain as they walked hand in hand down the hill and into town. Mauerbauertraurigkeit gripped Vervain's hand tighter, just to burn her warmth into his memory.

"Why'd you take your cloak off?" He asked in fluent Icelandic. Vervain didn't known English as well as he did.

"I was grieving." She responded in the only way she could. Her grunts and whines were difficult to hear over the storm.

"Grieving? What? Why- oh."

"Yeah, my boyfriend asked me out for a romantic picnic under the moon on the only clear night we had seen for months, and he never shows up." She pulled him closer to her as they walked. "I thought you died at first, cause there's no one here you'd cheat on me with. Then I went to your house and mom was devastated. Said a giant ape in armor took you away."

He chuckled. "It's quite a story, though, isn't it?"

Vervain didn't laugh.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I didn't want to go anymore than you wanted me to leave. They were total assholes, too, except the chef."

Vervain hummed, but they had reached the Welschs siblings' house, and loud barking greeted them when they stepped up to the door. They both smiled at the sound.

"Back! Back, ya mangy demons! Get away from the door!" Mr. Welschsson yelled from inside, and the barking quieted to grumbles, and the door opened.

Harvard Welschsson was a small, round man. Given, everyone was small compared to Vervain and her boyfriend, but this man was especially so. He was a few inches over four feet, and you could barely tell where the black hair on his head ended and his beard started. Only his thick, diamond shaped glasses really stood out on his face - especially in the dark.

He stared up at the two for a moment, then frowned. Mauerbauertraurigkeit was immediately reminded why he had always been a bit fed up with the man who predated even Vladís.

"Who are you?" He shouted over the storm. "I don't give handouts to boomers!"

"Harvard, we've lived here all our lives." Mauerbauertraurigkeit sighed. "I'm Vladís's son. Vervain is my girlfriend."

"Who's Vladís?" He yelled back, and started to close the door, but a woman came to the door, and to their rescue.

"Harvard, I've told you a million times, there's no baby boomers in town. How you can remember to dye your hair, but not who your own neighbors are baffles me to no extent."

Seinhei Welschsdotter was only a few centimeters taller than her twin brother, and certainly had a lot more memory than him. Unlike her brother, she let her hair turn white with age, and she wore hexagonal glasses. She often claimed they were descendants of elves, and that they could bend natural magic to their will. Vervain had never seen any such thing from Harvard, but Seinhe was known around town for eerily accurate, if not vague, premonitions. In fact, Vervain had gone to her when Mauerbauertraurigkeit had been taken, and she had admitted to knowing strangers would come to town with ill-intent.

She shooed Harvard away from the door, then looked up at them and froze.

"Th-the son of the faerie! You're back! The weather told me something was coming, but i could not have ever predicted this!" She excitedly bounced on the balls of her feet for a moment before letting them inside.

"You have been missed by those who have the memory to remember you, son." She said, and they could hear Harvard scoff at her in the kitchen.

"I don't need to remember people, Seinhe, ive got my work to do!" He called out, confusing Vervain and Mauerbauertraurigkeit greatly.

"What does he do for work?" He asked, voicing their confusion for them both.

Seinhe just waved them off and opened their bedroom door.

Two giant blurs shot out of the room and ran straight for Mauerbauertraurigkeit. They knocked him down and viciously licked his face. He laughed and let himself be covered in giant dog slobber.

"They missed you a lot, son. Possibly rivaling your girl."

"That's not possi-blah!" As he tried to talk, he got a mouthful of slobber, which left him spluttering under the weight of the dogs for a good few minutes. Vervain laughed lightly and smiled at Seinhe.

"And you've taken off your grieving robes, I see." The old woman said quietly, just to her. Vervain nodded.

"Do you know what will happen now? People do not usually return to this town."

Vervain shook her head and looked at Mauerbauertraurigkeit fondly.

"I can only hope he will stay for you."

She nodded, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit finally managed to stand.

"Ok, ok, Kaihra and Kieger, sit!" He told the dogs, and they immediately did so, looking expectant.

"Good dogs! Now Kaihra, go steal Harvard's slippers!" One dog barked and trotted away while the other rolled onto its back and wagged it tail.

"Son, what are you telling our dogs?"

"Nothing but a little fun, ma'am." He grinned, and both women sighed, but smiled.

A moment later, they could all hear Harvard yell in the kitchen, and Kaihra came back with a pair of old, tattered things that barely resembled slippers.

"Good dog!" Mauerbauertraurigkeit cheered, and the dog wagged its tail.

"So what brings you down here? I certainly doubt it's for a visit." Seinhe finally asked.

"Mamma wants more brennivín, what with the storm coming in and our thin blooded guest and all."

"Oh? Guest?"

Seinhe wandered into a side room, and they followed after her. A flick of a switch lit the room and revealed shelf after shelf of jars and barrels filled with alcohol. The air was thick with the smell of spices and fermenting potato paste. The dogs didn't dare wander in after them.

"The agent that brought me back is staying the night. He wants me to work for his agency, but I wouldn't without Vervain by my side."

"A good choice. She's been studying up during your absence. No use mourning for something you can't change, right dear?"

Vervain looked conflicted, but nodded.

Seinhe grabbed several jugs from a shelf, and held them close to her as she turned to them again.

"Now, your payment for this is gonna be a recount of what you've done, sir. So get comfortable and tell old Seinhe what the last seven years have been to you."

* * *

After a few hours of retelling his imprisonment and answering questions, Seinhe let them go with several pitchers of alcohol.

"Take the dogs with ye, they've been antsy for heavy cargo, and the both of us are like feathers to them." Seinhe said as she shooed them out of the house. The dogs followed them out, and sat patiently as they hooked them up to the dog sled.

"And while you're at it, Vladísson, Kieger's left hind leg has been actin' funny. It may be comin' loose, so if you give them check ups, that would be swell."

He nodded and got in front of Vervain on the sled, and took off.

As a child, when he discovered the magic of sticking body parts together, he began a series of experiments that caught the attention of the village. It started with squirrels and mice. Giving squirrels mouse tails, and Mice squirrel ears. He studied their biology, with just young Vervain by his side, but at the time, she was more invested in the actual bloodshed portion of it.

A few years later, when he was closing in on sixteen, two of the Wlechs's eight sled dogs died. They were thrown into the forest snow drifts, since the ground was too frozen to bury anything. he retrieved them, dragged them home, and stitched them together into one, larger dog with the strength of two. All it needed was a working brain. After a few failed shock treatments, he came to the conclusion that the brains had been dead for too long, and he couldn't do anything unless he got a fresh head.

The third dog died the next week, and he didn't wait for them to throw it to the drifts, this time. He went to their door, knocked, and asked for their dead dog.

Vervain had been appalled, but Harvard shrugged after his hippie rant, and handed the dog over.

This head worked, and after a few adjustments, to include parts of the newly dead body to the other one, they now had a husky nearly three times its original size, and three times as strong.

Seinhe cried when he brought it back to them.

She had, admittedly, thought that he had literally traveled into the afterlife and spoken to Odin himself to get their dogs back, but after some explanations, she came around to the idea of his science.

As the years passed, more of their dogs passed on, and instead of mourning their losses, they were given to Mauerbauertraurigkeit to fix up. They had only had two dogs for years now, and their last modifications had been made with parts of a bear Vladís had killed, but that was seven years before. Mauerbauertraurigkeit could feel their need for new parts the moment they set off up the hill, as they pulled with less force than he could remember. They could still make it up the hill just fine, but he would have to work on them for a bit.

* * *

Gabriel was expecting the two to come back with alcohol, not with dogs.

Given, they had the alcohol, but those... those dogs weren't like anything he'd ever seen.

They burst through the door in a flourish and the dogs bounded in, over the couch, and directly onto Gabriel. Any other sized dog, it would have been kind of enjoyable. But these two were quite literally as tall as him.

They pawed at him with feet the size of his head and licked his face with tongues far longer than any tongue he has had to see in his life.

"Seinhe asked me to give the pups a check up, since it's been so long since the last one. I'll drop them off tomorrow morning when we leave." He overheard Mauerbauertraurigkeit explain to his mother.

"Aye, good plan." She said, "now lets open up some drink! Gabriel, have you ever had Brenniven before?"

"No." He answered from his place under all the dog.

"Good cause this isn't like the commercial stuff. This'll heat ye up inside, outside, upside, downside... all sides." Mauerbauertraurigkeit said as he handed him a shot glass with dark golden liquid at the halfway mark. Without thinking much, he swung it back.

It tasted like cloves and chives, and the bitter alcohol taste was mostly covered up by a woody taste. As it slid down his throat, he could feel it warming him from the inside, but it was a slow heat, unlike the burn of most alcohols.

"Wh-what..." he gasped, and his three hosts giggled.

"If Harvard has any dwarf magic in him, it's gotta show up in his Brenniven." Vladís said proudly. "That, or Seinhe goes back and charms each gallon."

"She doesn't have the time for that, son, she's busy with her own projects."

"What-oof..." he tried to sit up, but one of the dogs rolled over and knocked him back. "What could anyone have to do up here?" He asked as he succumbed to the dogs.

"You think the town would keep living if everyone just hunkered down and never left their houses?" Mauerbauertraurigkeit asked with a raised eyebrow. He handed him another half-filled shot glass, and the fact that vervain and Vladís were filling large mugs with the alcohol did not escape Reaper.

"Everyone has their role, just cause we do not talk often doesn't mean we do not work together." Vladís explained as she sipped from her mug.

"My boy is a bit of a Doctor, and Seinhe is also taught in treating ailments. Her brother makes the alcohol, which is very important here. Mr. Jorgenson is a fisher, and he just recently gained a fresh young man to teach. Poor thing walked into town half frozen when Vervain found him and dropped him on the old croon's doorstep. Townsfolk come to me when they need lamb or wool, cause I'm the only one who can reach the herd of wild sheep past the mountain."

Gabriel shook his head and sighed, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit finally shooed the dogs off of him.

"Heel you two, we've gotta go to the lab."

The two dogs came up to his waist and happily trotted after him down the hall. Vervain followed shortly, two mugs of brennivin in her hands, and Vladís sat on the couch beside him once again. She handed him another tiny glass of the same alcohol she was chugging from a large frosty mug like it was cider.

"Why are you giving me so little?" He asked, slightly offended. Vladís glanced at him from the corner of her eye and snorted into her mug.

"Ye can't actually believe ye could handle this much, boy. Much too strong for yer thin blood."

"So an eighty year old woman can take something that I can't?"

"My blood was made for it. Got the god's blessings running through these veins."

"What makes you say that?"

"Our conversation earlier was interrupted, that's right." She took another sip, then set the mug on her table. "Where had we left off?"

"You don't fear death."

"Death is inevitable. No reason to fear it, aye? Snakes aren't inevitable, so it makes much more sense to fear them. Once you're dead, you don't come back, unless my boy gets ahold of ya... he's turned my world on It's head many times in his life..." she sighed. "Me ancestors... weren't human. Long time ago, before ye were born, before ye grandfather were born, some man down the line decided to marry a Valkyrie. She didn't wanna marry, but she did bear a child before leaving it with him and flyin off to do her own thing. This was me grandmother. Her daughter grew to be me mother..." she sat and thought for a moment. "I thought I'd have a daughter too, but then Mauerbauertraurigkeit happened and he didn't gain the same blood as me. Valkyrie can only be women, ye see."

"So the Valkyrie blood makes you drink more. How come Vervain and your son get to drink a lot too?"

"It's not just a high alcohol tolerance I get, but yes. And they have thick blood. It takes them even longer to get drunk than me. Have you seen them bleed?"

Gabriel didn't think he could stop remembering Mauerbauertraurigkeit's disgusting blood. He shivered and nodded.

"Hard for anything but oxygen to get through that. Whatever me boy did, it keeps them together and sober."

"You've got a weird son, ma'am."

She gave a loud laugh and shook her head.

"Son, you've no idea. Now drink your Brennivin. Won't do ye any good in that glass."

He swung the shot back and coughed as it warmed his face. His vision went blurry for a second, and all he could mutter was a quiet "oh." Before he realized that indeed, this stuff was really strong. Stronger than it really had any right to be.

* * *

The next morning, Gabriel was shaken awake by Mauerbauertraurigkeit.

"Wake up sleepy head! We've got a long walk through the snow ahead of us!" He shouted, directly into his hungover ears.

"Shut up."

"That's no way to talk to your new asset! Now get up! We're riding on the sled down to the town."

Vladís gave him a thick slab of buttered bread on his way out the door and a slap on his back as she called out after them.

"You come back and visit more! Gabriel, you too! I expect visits less than seven years apart!"

"Yes momma!"

"I'll make sure of it, ma'am." He grumbled.

He realized that even though he was outside, he hadn't had to squint in any sunlight, and looked around. The sun must have been up, since it was brighter than the night before, but the clouds above were so thick that barely any light shown through. Any that did, was muted and grey.

At least the worst of the wind had died down.

The giant dogs tied to their sled were just as perky as Mauerbauertraurigkeit, but Vervain looked worse for wear. She gave him a silent nod when he approached.

Mauerbauertraurigkeit was wearing the same suit as last night, but added a long jacket to the mix, probably to appease his mother. Vervain wore olive green army pants, a black top, and her cloak, but it was open so the cone around her head did not enclose her completely. Of the three of them, he reluctantly admitted to himself that she was probably the most terrifying. He put it all on her height, though. If he was nine feet tall, he'd be just as scary as her, he figured.

They put him at the front of the sled, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit steered around him as he tiredly ate the bread Vladís had given him. Even in the freezing breeze, it warmed him slightly.

They stopped at one of the town buildings, and Vervain knocked on the door as he finished his breakfast and put his mask back on. A small woman, smaller than Torbjorn, answered with a tired smile.

"You're lookin' like you had a nice night full of drink, Vervain." She said. She only nodded in return and pointed at the dog sled.

The woman stared at the dogs on the sled, barely even giving Gabriel a second glance, and sighed.

"I haven't seen em that happy in years." She paused, thought, and turned to Mauerbauertraurigkeit. "How about you take them out on your trip. Bring them back when you visit us again?"

"We don't need giant dogs at Talon." Gabriel sighed.

"Are ya sure, Seinhe?" Mauerbauertraurigkeit asked, ignoring his grumbling.

"Yes, we don't have work for them around here anymore. Your mother sometimes takes them, but not enough... and they do love ya."

Mauerbauertraurigkeit ran up to her and hugged her gently, and smiled.

"I'll try to visit soon to let them come home. Thank you, so much."

"Alright, boy, calm down. Let me go back to my rest." She chuckled and wandered back inside, and Gabriel continued to grumble.

"Gabriel, if we keep the dogs, you don't have to do any walking."

That shut him up.

* * *

It took an hour and a half to get back to the ship on the dogsled. When they pulled up, the ramp dropped and Sombra, as well as several agents marched down to meet them. Sombra looked pissed.

"Gabe! You were supposed to be back hours ago! What the hell hap-" she stopped the moment she came face to face with the dogs, and looked to be equal measures horrified and excited.

"Look at these dogs! I don't have to bend down to pet them!"

"Right?!" Mauerbauertraurigkeit said happily as he unhooked them from the sled.

"Wait, no, im mad! You are so lucky I convinced the higher ups to stay for another day, otherwise you would've been deserted! Where were you?"

"I- ugh..." Gabriel rubbed his head and sighed.

"We were drinking, Gabriel would have frozen, had we not stayed overnight." Mauerbauertraurigkeit said instead, as he led the dogs up past her and into the ship.

"You... were drinking..." Sombra let out a huff, then started giggling. "You ignored orders to get drunk. Can you get drunk?"

"I didn't think I could, but this hangover says otherwise." He grumbled and finally stepped off of the sled to let Vervain start to move it into the ship. He was stopped with a grappling hook hitting his chest, in a flagrant misuse of the tool. Widowmaker stalked down the ramp with a glare.

"You were supposed to come back last night, and now there are giant dogs running rampant in the ship. What do you have to say for yourself?" She demanded. Sombra straightened up and had a very fake stern face as she slowly shook her head and wagged her finger at him from her place behind Amélie.

"I'm-" the bright lights from within the ship were starting to make his head spin, and the biting cold outside was not making him feel any better. Amélie tapped her foot impatiently. Sombra was no longer looking at him, instead at something over his shoulder, and he didn't miss the look of horror spread slowly over her face. She tried to discreetly nudge Amélie, but she wouldn't budge.

A large figure Gabriel was now quite familiar with was suddenly in front of him.

Vervain hefted the sled over her shoulder and glared down at Amélie. The blue woman took a step back in shock, since she hadn't seen Vervain, what with being concentrated on Gabriel the whole time. Vervain looked her up and down, then the same to Sombra. While Amélie attempted to glare back at her towering frame, Sombra gave her a small wave. Vervain nodded at her, shoved Amélie to the ground with her free hand, and followed Mauerbauertraurigkeit into the ship. Gabriel sighed.

"Who was that?" She snapped at Gabriel as she scrambled back up, then turned to Sombra, who generally was the best for knowing who people were. She just shrugged.

"According to me, she doesn't exist! She isn't in any database or anything, and trust me, I'd remember seeing anything about a giant like her."

"That's Mauerbauertraurigkeit's assistant, Vervain." Gabriel finally said. He was just a bit shocked that she had stood up for him. Or, at least, that's what he thought she was doing. "She's terrifying."

* * *

 **good days/bad days tally:**  
 **Overwatch- 1/1**  
 **Talon- 1/0**  
 **Reaper- 1/100001**


End file.
